


i really like you (i really love you)

by oddpen



Category: HALO (Korea Band), 헤일로 | Halo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddpen/pseuds/oddpen
Summary: It’s never been a secret that Younghoon is beautiful.  Golden, ridiculously pretty.  It hits Yoondong all over again.  He takes a shuddering breath, chest heaving with it.The pink on Younghoon’s cheeks becomes more hectic, rushing down his neck, over the skin his skewed shirt can’t cover.Yoondong swallows, suddenly aware of his own bare chest, his erratic breathing deafening, blood rushing to his ears.





	

“I’m in love with you,” Younghoon presses against his neck, words hot, searing against the thin skin, against the bruises he’s bitten to the line of his throat.

Yoondong stills, arms tightening around Younghoon’s neck, breath gone away from him.  

In the dark room, under the faint light of the streetlamp, under the smell of Younghoon’s cologne, his hopeful gaze, Yoondong can’t think of what to say.

His eyes focus on the way Younghoon pulls away from him, cheeks pink, hair starting to curl with sweat along his temples.  

It’s never been a secret that Younghoon is beautiful.  Golden, _ridiculously_ pretty.  It hits Yoondong all over again.  He takes a shuddering breath, chest heaving with it.  

The pink on Younghoon’s cheeks becomes more hectic, rushing down his neck, over the skin his skewed shirt can’t cover.  

Yoondong swallows, suddenly aware of his own bare chest, his erratic breathing deafening, blood rushing to his ears.

“I’m-” Younghoon stops, eyes looking away at the way the light from the streetlamp cuts into the room, eyes avoiding the boy under him.

Yoondong’s gaze falls on the way they interlock, his arms still over Younghoon’s neck, legs still tangled.  The way Younghoon’s tanned skin contrasts sharply with his own.  

It’s hard to look at him, Yoondong thinks, when he looks like the sun shines from under his skin.

He can feel the way Younghoon begins to pull away, bed creaking.

Yoondong panics, arms holding on tighter, pulling Younghoon down.  

Younghoon won’t look at him, Yoondong looks at the line of his profile, the slope of his nose, the swell of his lips.  He pulls back, hands coming to cup the sides of Younghoon’s face, guiding his gaze to his own.  

Even in the dark Younghoon’s eyes are bright, Yoondong feels the a lump form in his throat.

“Yoondong I-” 

He kisses him again.  The warmness of Younghoon’s mouth is addicting, something that Yoondong never thought he would get a chance to taste.  Younghoon is warm over him, stiff arms still away from him.  Yoondong _desperately_ wishes that Younghoon would keep close.

He kisses Younghoon until his jaw aches until he can feel Younghoon press down closer, warmth bleeding together.

His hands trail down Younghoon’s neck, under his shirt, fingers curling along Younghoon’s shoulder.  He pulls away then, watching the way Younghoon’s eyes flutter open, lips bruised.

“You’re in love with me?” Yoondong asks, voice breaking, nervous, something warm filling his stomach.  

Younghoon’s cheeks flush darker with that question.  It’s unlike _anything_ Yoondong is used to.  

Younghoon has never been shy.  In all the time Yoondong has known him, all the ways Younghoon has approached him, this is not the kind of Younghoon he knows.  

Yoondong waits for an answer, his heart is  beating entirely too fast, his throat gone dry.  There’s no noise, only the sound of Younghoon’s breathing, the sound of Yoondong’s heart.  

“Yes,” Younghoon’s voice is soft, his eyes lowering to  Yoondong’s bare chest, “I do.”

Yoondong’s heart feels like it’s going to explode, a burning feeling trickling down his chest, settling heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He leans forward, hands bringing Younghoon down, mouth pressing a clumsy kiss to Younghoon’s cheek, at the corner of his mouth, “me too,” he breathes, cheeks going a soft pink, “ _I love you too_.”

Younghoon’s eyes bore down on him, dark brown, bright in the dark.  Yoondong offers a smile, too shy considering the position he’s under, warm under Younghoon.

Younghoon dips down, nose nudging along the line of his jaw, lips fluttering at against the soft skin.

“Are you sure?” he asks voice quiet.

“Yes,” Yoondong answers quickly, no hesitation.

There’s a moment of nothing, nothing but the soft sounds of Younghoon’s breathing, the empty sounds of the late night.  

Yoondong becomes aware of the way Younghoon’s lips are still swollen, the non existent space between them.  

Younghoon’s groan is pressed against Yoondong’s jaw as he bucks upward, hips hitching up to meet Younghoon’s.  

He feels warm all over, his body starting to chase the feeling of Younghoon against him, hips rolling forward, chasing the feeling of Younghoon pressing back.

He can feel how hard Younghoon is against his own hardness.  

His breath catches in his throat when Younghoon’s mouth presses wet kisses to his shoulder, hands going up, grabbing both his shoulders, pushing, urging, until Yoondong is resting against the headrest, Younghoon settling on his lap.  Yoondong’s hands act on their own, as they slide up Younghoon’s full thighs, fingers curling into a warm grip, squeezing gently before his palms ride up, finding room under Younghoon’s shirt, pushing up the material of it with his hands.  

“Take it off,” he mumbles, palms skimming over the skin of Younghoon’s stomach.

Younghoon’s smile is different, back to the familiar playfulness that Younghoon slips into, “no,” he says, “I  don’t want  to.”

Yoondong looks up at that, eyes widening just the smallest bit, unsure on how to continue now that he’s been denied.  

Younghoon’s smile is tempting, boils the blood under Yoondong’s skin.  

Younghoon presses down, hips rolling slowly, measured, teasing.

Yoondong chokes at the pressure, fingers grasping at the material of Younghoon’s shirt, bunching it up, riding it enough to see the soft skin of Younghoon’s stomach.

Yoondong’s hips react on their own, lifting to meet Younghoon’s, holding tightly as Younghoon takes it slower, so unlike him it drives Yoondong a bit mad.

Younghoon kisses him again.  

Just as slow as the way his hips move, searing hot, his jaw aches with how long he kisses him.  Plush mouth soft, teeth biting, warm skin on skin.  When they pull apart Younghoon’s skin glistens with sweat, hair curling against his temples.  

His breath hitches when Younghoon leans forward again, teeth biting against his jaw.  Yoondong’s hips rise up with it, pressing against Younghoon again, stilling when he catches himself already rocking against him.

“You can,” Younghoon finally says, words breathing against Yoondong’s neck.

He shivers with it, the softness of his voice, the look in his eyes, Yoondong bucks forward.  

He can’t help it when he speed up, relentlessly trying to have all of Younghoon with him, hips moving on their own when they touch, hissing when Younghoon rolls back towards his movements.  

His hands find the back of Younghoon’s thighs, still clothed, and he pulls them forward, eyes fluttering when Younghoon’s voice breaks into a soft sound, hands landing on the bed, trying to stay balanced.

It feels _good_ , it feels good because _it’s Younghoon_ and _he loves him_.

He opens his eyes, mouth opening in a sigh, breaking with the way Younghoon meets his thrusts, hurried, wanting as well.  He takes his fill of the way Younghoon’s skin glows, the way sweat trails down the side of his head, makes him shine, the plush line of his lower lip as it pouts, mouth dropping over heavy breathes.

His nose scrunches up, Yoondong’s movements become more frantic, searching for an end, wanting Younghoon to be as close as possible.

Younghoon’s face changes, Yoondong feels the way Younghoon’s body locks up, tensing when he goes on, feeling the way Younghoon shudders over him.

Younghoon is soft over him, slumped against him, warm, his grip lax.  

It feels like too much when he finally comes but he can’t help but like it, like the way Younghoon likes him.

-

Younghoon is on his stomach, hair soft, messed up from being in bed.  

Yoondong turns to look at him, knows there a blush on his cheeks, eyes landing on the swollen lines of Younghoon’s lips.

“What’s the point of taking your clothes off now,” he asks, faux annoyance at Younghoon’s denial earlier in the night.

“You made me a mess,” Younghoon grins, lifting onto his arms, “I had to take them off.”

“You’re always a mess,” Yoondong bites back, rolling on his side, eyes going down to Younghoon’s collarbones.

“That’s ok,” Younghoon smiles, surprisingly soft, “you still love me.”

  
  



End file.
